


Content Warning: Violence

by johnny cade (johnnycake)



Series: Switchblades and Leather [15]
Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Abuse, CSA implied, Disordered Eating, M/M, Panic Attacks, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnycake/pseuds/johnny%20cade
Summary: Johnny and Dally go out on a date, but as usual it doesn't go as planned.





	Content Warning: Violence

**Author's Note:**

> ay!! i got this idea from a roleplay!! also i’m gonna write another chapter of my big fic after this. i still have two other one shot ideas, but i need to write that fic in between or i’ll never finish it. i had to write this tho cause they’re actively dating in this and it’s cute as fuck.

Four in the afternoon was a strange time during the summer. It wasn’t yet cool enough to really spend any time comfortably outside, though there were kids all over the neighborhood that had been doing that all day already. It was the hour before all of the fathers got off work and headed home. It was the last hour of freedom.

For the gang that strange four in the afternoon time didn’t really apply. The Curtis parents were dead, Two-Bit’s father preferred him to be out of the house, Steve’s and Dally’s fathers were truckers and often gone for weeks at a time, and Johnny’s father was a construction worker, so typical work hours didn’t apply.

Still, as he sat on the front stoop of his house, smoking a cigarette, Dally thought about it as he watched cars pass by on the street or pull into the driveways of the houses surrounding his. Before his mother had died, his father had had typical work hours. He thought now that if his father had been gone for weeks at a time while his mother had still been alive that she might’ve been alive longer. She might never have died at all, in fact.

The thought alone made him bitter.

 _If only, if only, if only..._ it felt like that was all his life was.

He forced his thoughts away from the past and back into the present. He was meeting Johnny at the vacant lot to go to the Dingo for a dinner date. No one outside of the gang knew they were dating. And for good reason: even within the greaser community queers were killed for showing how they felt in public or for letting their preferences known at all. As a result, Johnny and Dally were only affectionate in private. Dally wished it didn’t have to be that way, but he’d rather them both live a very long time. Plus Johnny had another secret that could get him hurt. If someone discovered both secrets, it could end very badly for both of them.

It was a good thing that the gang, including Sodapop and Two-Bit, could keep their mouths shut when it mattered.

Dally stood, taking one last puff on his cigarette before he dropped it and crushed it beneath his heel. He started to walk away before remembering how Johnny picked up his cigarette butts and pocketed them to throw away later. He let out a huff, and a curse, turning back and swiping the butt off the ground. The kid’s good habits were rubbing off on him. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

He pocketed the butt and shoved his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket as he headed for the vacant lot, pulling his light along with another cigarette out of the pack in the pocket over his heart to smoke on the way there.

The lot was up the street from his house and it took him only a matter of minutes to get there. If he looked to his right from his front stoop, he’d be able to see the lot, which meant he could see the shape of Johnny, throwing around the gang’s football long before he got there. He wasn’t sure Johnny saw him, though. He seemed to be absorbed in what he was doing, throwing the ball to one side of the lot before chasing after it and then throwing it to the other side.

As he came up to the lot, he took the cigarette from his mouth, gave his usual lopsided grin and shouted, “Gettin’ quite the workout, huh, Johnnycake?”

Johnny started, dropping the football, turning with wide eyes to see who had made the comment. When he saw Dally, he relaxed and smiled and waved to him, running up to him. He seemed to remember at the last second that he couldn’t jump into his arms in public and brought himself to an abrupt stop in front of Dally, still smiling. “Hey, Dallas,” he said in his usual soft voice, smiling.

For a moment, Dally wanted to stop time. He wanted to be able to see Johnny this happy, this carefree forever. He wanted to _feel_ this happy and this carefree forever. He wanted the whole world to change how it worked so this moment with Johnny could last forever and they could forget all about the unfriendly world that lay just outside of their inner fantasies.

“You ready to go?” Johnny asked. His voice was still soft, he still had that same happy smile on his face, but the words broke the spell and Dally felt as though he’d lost something very precious in that moment that he might not ever be able to get back.

Dally forced himself to smile and nod. “Yeah, let’s go, Johnnycake.”

The Dingo was out by the drive-in theater, close to the drive-in restaurant the Pine. In fact, they were across the street from each other. Both were rough places. Fights were constantly breaking out in the Dingo and in the parking lot of the Pine. A girl had gotten killed at the Dingo only a few months back and somehow that hadn’t slowed down business at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dally saw Johnny’s steps stutter as they got closer to the building. He turned to look at him and saw him biting his lip, looking at the Dingo’s facade nervously. It occurred to Dally that Johnny was thinking the same things he was and he stepped in front of him. He couldn’t touch Johnny like he wanted, couldn’t tilt his chin up to look at him without other people noticing and thinking it was weird.

However, it turned out that wasn’t even necessary because Johnny looked up at him, fear in his eyes the minute he was standing in front of him. It took Dally a moment to realize he was towering over him. Probably a little intimidating to someone as small and frightened as Johnny. Again, Dally hated himself for how naturally aggressive he was, forcing himself to take a step back as he looked into Johnny’s eyes and said, “If anythin’ happens, we’ll leave right away, alright? I ain’t gonna let nobody in there hurt’cha.”

Johnny’s eyes flicked to the Dingo again for a moment before he said, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper, “What if...” he swallowed, “what if someone tries to start somethin’ with us?”

“Then I’ll protect you,” Dally replied without hesitation.

Johnny gave him a nervous smile. He didn’t seem convinced, but it was better than the purely anxious expression he’d had a moment ago. Dally wished he could take Johnny’s hand, lace their fingers together and hold it tight so he would know he wasn’t alone. But people didn’t like boys holding hands or touching each other or looking at each other too long.

He hated having to live in a world that hated him for who he loved.

The sound of the Dingo was deafening when they opened the door and Dally saw Johnny wince. He didn’t like loud noises or bright lights and he was starting to wonder if it had been a good idea to suggest coming here to begin with. However, Johnny was the one to walk through the door and take a seat in the back corner next to the jukebox, which was playing Elvis Presley. Dally took the seat across from him and watched as Johnny’s eyes darted around the room, assessing the threats like a scared animal. Dally tried not to think too hard about what that meant. It would break his heart if he did.

The waitress came over to take their order almost instantly. Johnny quietly ordered a basket of french fries with seasoned sour cream and a Coke. Dally ordered the same, but without the sour cream. He got ketchup for his fries instead.

They sat in silence as they waited for their food to come, Dally watching Johnny swing his legs under their table in his seat. He was sitting on his hands too. Dally knew Johnny well enough to know that, though he wasn’t saying anything, he was nervous.

Not for the first time, Dally wished he could take all of Johnny’s pain away. All of his fear of others, all of his remaining anxiety surrounding whether or not his parents’ loved him, all of it, and it seemed cruel to him that he couldn’t do just that.

Their food arrived fairly quickly and Johnny dug into his with his typical ravenous hunger, eating like he hadn’t eaten in days or weeks. But he always ate like that. Whether or not it really had been days since he’d eaten or not.

“You don’t gotta eat so fast, Johnnycake,” he said so only Johnny would hear. “I ain’t gonna take it away from you. I ain’t gonna let anyone else take it till you’re done neither.”

Johnny paused in eating, a large bite of food tucked into his cheek as he chewed. His eyes were wide as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He swallowed what was in his mouth and said, “I ain’t eatin’ fast. You eat slow.”

But Dally only shook his head. “No, Johnny,” he said, his voice still soft. “I don’t eat slow. You eat fast. Real fast. Why d’you think we’re always tellin’ you to slow down? It ain’t good for you to eat that fast. It could make you sick.”

Johnny was quiet for a moment and Dally could tell from the look in his eyes that he hadn’t ever thought of that before. He ate more slowly after that. Not significantly, but enough that Dally noticed and smiled at him. He couldn’t believe Johnny’s own parents had made him that afraid his food would be taken away, even though he’d heard the stories of his mother taking food off his plate and denying him seconds or just denying him food altogether.

Dally opened his mouth to say something else, but he heard a scuffle behind him. Then Johnny jumped and his eyes widened with fear. Dally turned around and saw a fight had indeed broken out behind them. He stood immediately, ready to rush Johnny out of the Dingo, but one of the nearby fighters took that to mean that he wanted to join in and hit him across the jaw. Instinctively, Dally hit him back and by then he’d forgotten all about getting Johnny out of there.

He was ready to fight.

* * *

Johnny hated fights. He would fight with the gang in rumbles because he owed them and they always were hurting for extra men in a fight, but as a general rule he avoided them. They scared him and reminded him of his home life. And the fight that broke out in the Dingo was no exception.

He saw the beginnings of it and had ignored it, hoping that if he focused on his food it would go away. But nothing in like works that way and this was also no exception to that rule as well. One guy had decked the other and that had been the end of it. Dallas had looked over his shoulder and seen what was going on just as quickly, but everything had gone wrong the moment he stood up. One of the other guys who’d joined in the fight hit him and Dallas, of course, joined right in.

But Johnny didn’t see that. He didn’t see the room around him that had erupted into chaos. He saw another room. A dark room. One that was more familiar. One he walked through everyday. But this version of the living room was from ten years ago when he was six years old. Things were a little different then than they were now. His father was standing over him with his belt and he was hitting him. His mother stood in the corner watching, frowning, her arms crossed over her chest.

He heard his father screaming at him and when his father stopped screaming his mother started. He shielded his face, trying to make sure it didn’t get hit by the buckle of his father’s belt as he hit him with it. He cried out each time it cut into his arms, creating scars he would carry forever. He was crying. Hard. Tears and snot running down his face. He couldn’t breathe right he was crying so hard, begging his father to stop.

Then his father grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet. He dug his feet into the carpet, not wanting to go with him. His father tugged him towards his bedroom and he knew what was going happen and that was when he began to scream.

What he didn’t know was he was screaming in real time too, loud enough for every single person still in the Dingo to hear.

* * *

The scream chilled everyone to the bone and stopped all fighting instantly as a result. Dally dropped the guy he was about to slug across the face, forgetting the high he’d gotten the instance he’d joined the fray all at once as a cold dread settled into his stomach. He recognized that scream. And he knew it was entirely his fault the sound was being made.

Turning, he saw Johnny pressed up against the far wall by the jukebox, his hands over his ears as he screamed, a hellish sound that only came from one being hurt in ways others didn’t want to ever imagine. The sound jarred Dally and would be the subject of his nightmares for weeks to come.

He crossed the room far more quickly than he thought he would be able to. It seemed like he leapt two strides and he was skidding to a stop, kneeling down as he did so, so he was right in front of Johnny. He reached out to take his hands away from his ears, saying his name softly as he did so, but that was the wrong move. Johnny’s eyes opened and he _did_ stop his hellish shrieking, but he started shouting, his voice on the edge of hysteria, “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Stop! Please! Stop hurting me! Please stop hurting me! I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I promise!”

Everyone in the room moved closer, wanting to see what was going on, but Dally wasn’t touching Johnny anymore and Johnny was still screaming.

The sound broke Dally in half. He didn’t want to think about what Johnny might be seeing, what memories he might be trapped in, to make him react this way. It brought tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat. The tears didn’t fall and he could force himself to speak around the lump, but only just. How he could he ever help Johnny when things he could never truly fix had happened to him over and over and over again?

“Johnnycake,” he said, his voice soft as it had been before. He hated himself now more than ever for getting in the fight, for forgetting Johnny, and not pulling him out of the Dingo _before_ this had happened instead of after. “Johnnycake, it’s just me. I ain’t gonna hurt’cha. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt’cha. You’re safe. You’re not there anymore.”

But Johnny didn’t seem to hurt him and Dally didn’t know what else to do, so he wrapped his arms around him holding him against his chest. Something seemed to snap in Johnny and he stopped screaming and shouting. He just clung to Dally, shaking badly, crying hard and loud enough for everyone in the still silent Dingo to hear him.

Later Dally would be surprised no one got impatient with him or started fighting again. He would also be surprised the Dingo remained still and silent until Johnny’s sobs subsided to stuttering, hiccuping breaths and Dally could pull him to his feet again. He took off his bomber jacket and draped it over Johnny’s shoulders, even though he was already wearing his denim jacket.

Johnny couldn’t walk on his own. He was shaking too bad for that, but he leaned against Dally as they walked stiltedly out of the Dingo and into the fading afternoon sunlight. Johnny didn’t look up until they left the parking lot and were headed back down the street towards the lot with the sun setting in front of them as they walked.

Eventually, Johnny calmed down enough that he was just shaking. Not bad enough to need to lean on Dally anymore, but bad enough that if someone looked at him they would notice.

Dally noticed that the tips of his fingers clung to either side of his bomber jacket, holding it around himself as he stared at the sidewalk as they walked.

“I’m sorry, Dallas,” Johnny said softly, his voice weak and hoarse from screaming and crying. “I can’t...I can’t even be normal enough for us to have a date.”

Dally stopped walking and moved in front of Johnny like he had before, but this time he took one of Johnny’s hands in his own and bent down so he look into Johnny’s face as his other hand cupped Johnny’s cheek. “Hey,” he said, his voice just as soft. “This ain’t your fault, okay? You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I’m the one that shoulda gotten you outta there before that happened.”

He could tell that Johnny didn’t agree with him, but he didn’t protest and he decided that would have to be good enough.

It took them much longer than it might have otherwise to get back to the lot. By the time they did, the shadows were growing long and Dally could start building a fire for them to enjoy once the sun went down. Johnny sat, silent and shaking, on the ripped out car seat near the rusted oil drums and Dally wished not for the first time he could kill Johnny’s parents for what they had done to their son.

But then he would be sent to prison and Johnny would be alone and that would be worse.

No. He would just have to wait until he could save up and buy a house for both of them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve been stressed and thinking about my trauma a lot lately which is why my one-shots have been depressing lately, but lol tbh everything in this universe is angsty.


End file.
